


Cooking

by redlittleowl



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Gen, Oops, comedy for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlittleowl/pseuds/redlittleowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuuka tries to cook. It doesn't end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have this as an apology for not updating 'Bits And Pieces' in forever. Oops. Sorry.

Shinjiro walks into the dorm to find Fuuka in the kitchen, trying desperately to fan the smoke away from her face as the smoke detectors blare their warning. A few choice cuss words drop from his mouth, and Shinji rushes over to disable the smoke detectors before barreling into the kitchen to pry the pan from Fuuka’s shaking fingers and haul it off the stove.

“What were you _doing_?” the brown-haired senior snaps at the blue-haired junior, fanning a hand through the smoke still rising from the pan. “Didn’t I tell you to wait until I got back so we could walk through this together? What were you trying to make, anyway?”

Fuuka has the grace to blush. “I was trying to fry the pecans for our salad…I figured I couldn’t possibly go wrong with that…” Shinji grimaces and peers at the pan, smoke no longer coming off it. There is a lumpy, garish _mess_ of something sitting in the middle of the pan.

“…What did you even put _in_ here?” he sighs, turning on the hot water and grabbing the dish soap and a sponge. Fuuka bites her lip and stares at the floor.

“Um…pecans, vegetable oil, some lettuce…” Shinji chokes and just _stares_ at her.

“I’m sorry, you _what_?” he finally gets out. “You tried to fry the whole _salad_?” Fuuka says nothing, and Shinji just rests his head against the wall for a moment before continuing to clean off the mess in the pan. “Just…wait for me next time. _Please_.”

“Maybe I could toss the salad next time…?” Fuuka begins.

“No.”

“Or maybe—”

“No.”

“I could—”

“Fuuka, next time you’ll _wait for me_ ,” Shinjiro sighs, and turns off the water. “Did you save any of the ingredients?” Fuuka slowly shakes her head.

“I could go grab them from the supermarket!”

“ _No_ , Fuuka!”


End file.
